Over the many Mental moons I've spent blogging here, one of two things has happened: either my neighbors have gone crazy at an alarmingly rapid rate, or I've just begun to notice their quirks more, in a way that only having to write about something interesting every single day will do to a person. Luckily, my phone takes relatively decent pictures, so I'm usually ready when weirdness strikes. In case you've missed the saga, here's a little bit of what it's like to live in Venice, California:
Child labor laws aren't so strict
That is, at least, according to flyers like this one found on a telephone pole down the street. Still not sure how many parents took the bait on this one, and if so whether or not they ever got their kids back. Hope so!
Even the signs can't get along
A beleaguered Rodney King famously once pleaded with the warring people of Los Angeles, begging "Can't we all just get along?" I think this unfortunate juxtaposition of signage I found in front of Venice high school just says it all. (The bus stop sign was part of an Oscars ad campaign.)
These sidewalks ain't for poopin'
If you think you can just let your dog poop anywhere around here -- especially on my street -- you've got another thing coming. Like a sarcastically cheery note written in kids' sidewalk chalk. Poop's never looked so nice.
What's that smell?
We never did figure this one out. The house is for sale now. Coincidence?
Long before the Simpsons movie, there was ...
My neighbor's car. In fact, my neighborhood is full of so-called "art cars" (also known as "unsellable" cars), which might just be a way for people to ensure their cars are never stolen. Toyota Camrys all look alike, but there's only one Simpsons car.